


Phobia

by Boxeption



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: (but not that slow), Body Horror, Enemies to Friends, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-07
Updated: 2017-11-28
Packaged: 2018-12-13 12:16:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11759676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Boxeption/pseuds/Boxeption
Summary: One broken man's reconciliation with another, now with two times as much bad humor and sass.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know what you expect from me honestly. Serious things? Ha ha.
> 
> I'm actually starting The Big Bad College in a week, so I'll be pretty absent, I think. You never know with homework and I _would_ like to keep my scholarship money. This fic might take a while to update but it's coming, I promise... slowly...

Jack flexed his wrists against his bindings, frowning as the blackness refused to give. He glared at the mask in front of him. “What the hell do you want from me?”

Reaper placed his hands over the bindings on his upper arms- how the _hell_ did he do that, anyway?- and brought his mask uncomfortably close. “I want to talk.”

“Don’t know if anyone told you, but pinning someone to a wall generally doesn’t make them want to have a civil conversation.” Jack tried to push off the wall, only to be met with a clawed hand on his chest pressing him back. He grimaced behind his mask. “We both know I can’t beat you by myself with just a gun.”

Reaper tilted his head slightly, clearly pleased by Jack’s admission. The bindings shifted; he was reconsidering.

“But, _Jack,_ ” He hissed the name like venom and the shadows constricted painfully around him, “I rather enjoy seeing you against the wall.”

“Kinky fucker.”

The hand on his chest clenched, digging its claws into his shirt and skin. “Besides, I’d prefer you hold still for this.”

“Wha-” Jack’s chest seized as Reaper _pushed,_  hand sinking through his jacket, his _skin,_ into his chest cavity. He wheezed, thrashing in the hold of shadows to try and escape. An icy chill spread through his body at Reaper’s touch. He could feel his claws tap along his ribs, close around his heart and ever-so-gently _squeeze._  Reaper’s low chuckle rang in his ears.

Jack squeezed his eyes shut behind the visor and prayed he’d kill him quickly. He hung limp in his bindings as Reaper played with his insides until suddenly they withdrew, letting him slump to the filthy ground. He forced his head up, watching the man- the _creature_ that had just done that to him examine his claws. Reaper seemed to notice Jack’s stare after a moment.

“This was a good talk, don't you think?” He drifted back, entire lower body hidden by shadows still, as Jack tried to lunge at him only to drop coughing. Wetness coated the inside of his mask and he resigned himself to figuring out what Reaper had punctured later.

“You fucker - _cough-_ what did you do?”

“Nothing you need to worry about.” Reaper swerved back as Jack surged to his feet, throwing a punch.

The sensation of flesh dissipating under his knuckles still took some getting used to. Jack searched the dingy alleyway for errant shadows. “See you soon, Soldier.” The rasping voice came from directly above his head and he glanced up in time to see the wraith vanish over the rooftops. Jack sat down heavily.

“Fuck.”

Later, in his safehouse, Jack Morrison pulled off the mask that was his new identity and dumped it in the sink without looking. The water would take care of the blood. He probed his torso with a grimace, noting how tender the flesh was where Reaper’s hand had entered him. After a thorough inspection, he decided that he hadn’t been coughing up blood the whole way back, and nothing hurt, so sleeping on it was safe. He peeled out of his sweat stained, filthy clothes and kicked them over to the corner before collapsing onto the bed in exhaustion. The visor was placed with care onto the bedside table, and he was asleep within minutes.

In the sink, the mask soaked, the water slowly turning gray.

* * *

 

Overwatch found him two months later. Jack counted the guns around him and slowly put his own on the ground, raising his hands. He was cuffed and taken to Gibraltar, where a flurry of questions assaulted him and one woman needed to go to the medical bay after trying to remove his mask.

“I’ll talk if you don’t take it off.” Winston sighed. He _really_ wasn't cut out for interrogation, especially not one clearly used to and trained for it. Not for the first time, he wished the old Commanders were still here to carry the load they were made for.

“Fine.”

After a long, long talk, Soldier: 76 was given a room in a corner of the base, watched heavily by Athena. He hadn’t _joined_ Overwatch, but they simply could not let him go. Staying here was his only option, and he would prefer it to not be in a cell if he could help it. It didn’t take long for some people’s insatiable curiosity to get the better of Winston’s warnings. Jack refused to open his door, eventually pointing out (at Athena’s prodding) that he wouldn’t get any meals if they sat outside his door all day. At the offer to bring him some, he snorted, shooing them away for the hundredth time. They never left for long. Angela- bless her, she seemed so busy- took the time to bring him meals without trying to wheedle him out of his room. He always felt a twinge of guilt closing the door in her face.

* * *

 

Another month, and Winston extended the offer to join Overwatch proper. He was laughed out of the room, but 76 contemplated it later. Two days passed before he made the trek- constantly whipping around to glare at the steadily growing crowd of new recruits- to Winston’s office.

“You’re only encouraging them by acting like that.” Winston shooed away the recruits, telling Athena to notify them if anyone lingered at the door. 76 snorted.

“How is anything I do encouragement?”

“They actually look up to you!” Winston smacked a hand on the table. “Not your ideals, thankfully-” 76 rolled his eyes behind the mask, “-but your prowess at fighting! I don’t understand it.”

Jack shrugged. “You never know with kids.” He extended a hand, a blunt olive branch after a month of irritation. “I’d like to take you up on your offer.”

* * *

 

Jack was cleared from a physical after Angela’s lecturing over how he was treating his body. She had grown up a lot, and Jack wasn’t sure he liked it, if he was being honest. It took a month of basic “training” and Winston negotiating before he was allowed to go on his first operation. It was a resounding success, somehow.

It took three months before Reaper started showing up on operations. He would trade fire and vanish, never really impeding them besides leaving a lingering unsettled feeling among them. Winston called 76 to his office again.

“He’s only showing up on ops with you.” It was blunt. Jack was surprised. He had assumed Reaper had been everywhere, but he didn’t talk to many people to be corrected. “Why do think that is?"

He shrugged. “Reaper’s never liked me. Did you miss the fact that we’ve tried to kill each other on sight?”

“That’s the _thing,_ 76\. If he wanted to he could tear through the entire team. He’s just… watching.”

Jack mulled it over. “Well then,” he stood up, “He’ll find me eventually, might as well go see what the hell he wants.

Winston sputtered. “And who are you going to take with you? I won’t allow you to endanger anyone.”

“Simple,” Jack raised an eyebrow at Winston. “I’m going alone.”

The gorilla’s jaw dropped. “We can’t just let you go out there without a comm!”

“Winston.” Jack stood a little taller, watching the gorilla lean back with a flicker of unease at the change. “If Reaper is after me, and only me, it’s because of something I’ve done that I wouldn’t want to see the light of day. If I’m going, I’m going alone and with my comm turned off.”

“You’ll still-”

“I’ll carry it in case of an emergency.” Winston sagged into his chair.

“I guess I can’t stop you.”

* * *

 

Three minutes after Jack left the Watchpoint, his visor pinged. An address and location hovered in the corner of his vision. He sighed. “Walking straight into a trap, I’m sure.

It took him nearly half an hour to get to the location Reaper had given him; a dingy alleyway between two buildings that looked like they housed a drug ring. He wondered if there was anyone left alive in either. He glanced into the narrow street, seeing something flash, and took in their meeting place.

The ground was a shifting haze of fog. Jack wanted nothing less than to walk into what he was sure was Reaper’s mist, but something glinted at the far end of the alleyway. Nothing else was clean here, Reaper had to have brought it. He steeled himself, stepping into the blackness. It was heavier than fog, pressing against his calves as he slowly walked through. It seemed to cling to him when he lifted a foot, and Jack doubted that was just his imagination. He reached out for the object now only a few feet away, fingers twitching as he recognized it.

Jack picked up Reaper’s mask, turning it over in his hands. “What are you playing at,” he muttered.

“You.”

The fog clamped around his legs in an iron grip, creeping up his thighs to further immobilize him. Jack twisted around, trying to see Reaper, but was met with a flash of black before cold poured down his back, wrenching his arms down to his sides. He was completely trapped. “Get _off!”_

“No.” The weight on his back grew heavier, more solid, as if Reaper was standing there instead of wrapped around him like something out of a horror movie. A clawed hand reached around him, tapping his wrist and pulling the mask out of his grip. He heard the click of it being reattached and then his arms were released. Jack knew better than to try anything, though. Just because he could move didn’t mean he _should,_ not with a dangerous, inhuman terrorist that has a history with him still holding on to the rest of him. He took a deep breath, the mask’s filter whining at all the impurities in the air.

Jack crossed his arms. “Reaper.”

A low hiss from behind him. “Soldier. Or should I call you _Jack_?”

He stiffened. “Jack Morrison is dead.”

“But he’s standing right here.” Shadows ran across his body, their touch cold and unsettling even through the layers of clothes. He decided to go with a different tactic.

“Was this the _talk_ you mentioned?”

“It was.” Reaper sounded _pleased_ that he had remembered, hold loosening just a little bit.

“Then I have some questions.” Jack twisted around. Reaper let him, moving back just a tiny bit so they weren’t nose-to-nose. The entire alleyway was clear behind him, Jack noticed, the fog either standing in front of him or creeping up his legs still. “You’ve been showing up on every op I’ve been on. Why?”

“To get you alone.” Reaper seemed content to answer his questions, and Jack pressed his opening.

“How.”

“Hm?” The wraith tilted his head slightly and a chill went down Jack’s spine, the memory of the last time he had done that resurfacing.

“How do you know where I’m going to be?”

Reaper hummed tunelessly. “Do you remember our last meeting?” He pressed forwards, slowly forcing Jack back until his back met the wall.

Jack ignored the shadows still covering his shoulders, staring into the dark pits of Reaper’s mask. “Having a hand shoved into your chest cavity is hard to forget.”

“Good.” That same hand came up and Jack went rigid as it _caressed_ his jaw. A click.

Shit.

Jack held his breath as Reaper pulled it away just enough to break the seal. “Don’t worry old man, I’ll protect your wrinkles. I only need a crack anyways.”

His lungs ached. Reaper stood there patiently, smoke curling under the edges of the mask to brush across his lips. He had to breathe _sometime_ , after all.

“How about I tell you, while we wait?” Reaper leaned back casually, as if he wasn’t waiting to suffocate Jack. “At our last meeting, I implanted some of my nanites into you- I’m sure you thought it was a tracker of some sort, didn’t you? It was me. I’ve been a part of you all these long months, just enough that I can find you, no matter where you go. Don’t worry,” he waved a hand dismissively, “I couldn’t hear any of your frankly idiotic plans, if I’m to judge by how you work in the field. However, those nanites are starting to die off now. Therefore, I need to… _replenish_ them.”

Jack’s chest strained for breath.

“I’m sure you want to know _why,_ don’t you? Why I’m following you everywhere? Why I would do this?” A clawed hand reached up, traced the corner of his jaw before gripping Reaper’s own mask. “Because it’s _you._ ”

Jack lost his grip on his breathing, smoke rushing into his lungs and making him dizzy. He heaved, coughing blackness as the nanites filtered into his bloodstream.

“I don’t forgive _or_ forget, Jack,” Gabriel said, “But I want to talk.”


	2. Chapter 2

Jack spat out a stream of smoke, staring at him in disbelief. “You want to  _ talk. _ ” Smoke tickled his throat with every breath and he suddenly tried to shove Reaper-  _ Gabriel _ away. It was like trying to push a concrete wall. “Get  _ off _ me!”

Gabriel moved all of three inches, still clinging to him below the waist, and Jack shied away from him. “I said  _ get off!” _

Gabriel finally retreated, no longer clogging the.air around him either, and Jack coughed harshly. The stream of black that left his mouth made him shudder. “Get  _ out _ of me too.”

Gabriel looked mildly shocked. “I just explained-”

“No.” Jack was breathing harshly, eyes squeezed shut. “All you said was that you were putting nanites in me because you wanted to talk. I’m here, get them out and  _ talk _ .” He heard Gabriel shift, and a hand rested against his throat.

“Pretty cheeky for someone I could kill in about five seconds.” An unpleasant tugging sensation filled his chest and Jack coughed and coughed, feeling the smoke glide through his throat until his chest was empty. Gabriel sat back, scrutinizing him. “Your lungs are fucked up.”

Oh, he thought he could mother-hen Jack, now? “That’s my business.”

A flicker of irritation surfaced in his eyes. “Technically,  _ you’re _ my business right now. Jack, I won’t say that what happened years ago was  _ fine _ , but I’m not going to rub salt in the wound. We have other matters to deal with.”

Jack gave a harsh laugh. “Oh, it’s fine as long as it suits you, isn’t it? Not like anyone  _ suffered _ then-”

“I  _ fucking died _ .” He was pinned against the wall, nose to nose with Gabriel, who’s eyes glowed a furious crimson. “I woke up on a morgue table with my entire lower body a puddle on the floor. But I’m willing to put aside any problems I have with you for the near future, because I have bigger problems right now. And so do you. I’m not indispensable to Talon, they  _ really _ don’t like me-”

“Gee, I wonder why.”

“But I get the job done and I do it well. Talon thinks they can…  _ replicate _ what I am.” Gabriel shuddered at the words, pulling back and letting Jack relax slightly. “They think that if they take another candidate from the SEP and dump them in a tub of preprogrammed nanites they'll get it, and this time they can brainwash them from the start.” A claw jabbed into his sternum. “And the only other SEP soldier anyone knows about is  _ you _ .”

Jack regarded him suspiciously. “But why would you care? You blame me for everything.”  _ Rightly so, too. _

Gabriel sighed, sitting on a crate. “Because believe it or not, I have basic human empathy and  _ no one _ deserves what Talon wants with that. And Jack, I don’t blame you for  _ everything _ . Lots of it was your fault, yeah-”

“Thanks.”

“You said it yourself! But Overwatch was corrupted beyond what you could have fixed anyways. There’s also the slight problem that if they get you and it  _ works _ , which is unlikely but possible, they’ll dispose of me. So really, it’s in everyone’s best interest if we work together on this.”

“So Talon’s loyal attack dog is running now that he realized they’re bad people?” Jack sneered at the wraith, shoving down a flicker of unease at the expression he was giving him.

“I never wanted to work with Talon, Jack. You’re implying I had a choice. They call me when they want jobs done, and I do them, because if I don’t they consider our contract terminated and all I am is a loose end. Talon doesn’t like loose ends.”

Jack deflated visibly, all his bluster and rage dissipating as it sank in that Gabriel was just trying to survive. “It doesn’t negate what you’ve done.”

“No, it doesn’t.”

Jack took a deep breath, watching the shadows ebb and flow around Gabriel’s feet. “What do I need to do to avoid becoming a pissy cloud?”

He heard a muffled laugh. “Clearly the easiest solution is to not be pissy.”

“You know what I meant.”

Gabriel composed himself- literally, Jack realized, reining in the shadows that swirled around him at his laughter. “Does it always do that?”

“Hm? Oh, pretty much. It’s hard to stay solid for too long. But you’ll need… hmm.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Gabriel Reyes? Planless? You really  _ are _ dead.”

“Oh, shut up.” Gabriel reclined against the crates. “You’re lucky the new Overwatch picked you up when they did, threw a wrench in Talon’s plans, but they’re going to try them eventually as long as you’re there. If you want to keep them safe, it would be a better bet to leave and keep running.”

“I’m not going to run like a hunted dog.”

“That’s exactly what you  _ are _ right now, Jack. And until Talon is taken down- or their plans for you derailed, at least- that’s what you’ll be.” Gabriel gave a long sigh. “If you don’t want to  fine, but it’s on your head when Talon destroys another Overwatch.”

Jack glared at him. He hated being boxed into a corner. “Fine.”

“ _ Thank _ you.” The wraith took a deep breath. “All right. Jack, do you give me permission to give myself a means of contacting you?”

“What?”

“Nanites, Jack. I need to put nanites in your system again.”

He stared at him suspiciously. “Why can’t you just ring my visor?”

“You think nanites can't hack electronics? They won’t survive in a machine anyways so I can’t  _ just  _ put them in your visor, they,” Gabriel shifted uncomfortably. “They need a living thing to break down for energy.”

Jack blinked. “So you were eating me alive for the past six months.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Oh, don’t be so dramatic. Do you realize how much of your body dies off and is replaced every day? If it was more than a handful there might be an issue but I’m hardly gonna put  _ all _ of them in you.”

“Oh.” Jack considered. “And you can’t spy on Overwatch?”

“I can only hear what you’re saying, and that’s if I’m paying attention.”

“Okay, then. Have at me.”

Gabriel raised an eyebrow. “Hold out your hands.”

Confused, Jack complied. Gabriel gripped his wrists and shaped them so they were cupped, smoke pooling in them. He let go, pushing them back towards him. “I figured this would be better than shoving myself down your throat.”

“Thanks for your consideration,” Jack replied sardonically. He brought his cupped hands to his face, watching the smoke swirl in trepidation.

Gabriel was staring at him. Jack gritted his teeth and breathed in deeply, struggling not to choke on the scratchy smoke. It stung as it sank into his lungs, tiny pinpricks as each nanite hooked into him, and he shuddered at the thought of what he had done. His mask clicked shut and he shook his head, pressing a hand to his chest. “You know, most people just exchange phone numbers”

“What are we, lovestruck teenagers?” Gabriel faltered halfway through his sentence, clearly remembering the time they  _ had  _ been lovestruck teenagers. Jack watched him stonily.

“When should I split?”

“Give it a couple months for me to get stuff in order.” Gabriel’s voice warbled as he shifted mid-sentence. “I’ll tell you when you should leave.”

“ _ Ciao.” _

Jack swore the inky cloud turned to stare at him.

“Your accent hasn’t gotten any better,  _ viejo. _ ”

* * *

 

“You’re  _ leaving? _ ” Winston was gaping at him in confusion. “But… but you  _ can’t!  _ You’ve been doing so well!”

Jack’s brow furrowed. “Have you been trying to rehab me?”

“We’ve been  _ succeeding _ to rehabilitate you.” Winston had the audacity to look affronted at his wording of their attempt to train him like a dog. “You just can’t leave, 76. We’d have to arrest you. This isn’t even my choice, it’s the UN’s decision regarding you.”

“Well, fuck the UN.” Jack watched his eyes bulge.

“You-”

Jack held up a hand to quiet him. “Winston, let me explain. There are people after me that Overwatch has no hope of dealing with. If I stay, I’m putting everyone here at risk.” Gabriels words from months ago resurfaced. “Believe it or not, I actually  _ care _ about Overwatch. I don’t want it to be crushed before it’s had a chance to begin.”

Winston opened his mouth to argue, but Jack ignored him. “And face it, not a single person in this building could stop me if I decided to leave, except possibly you and Oxton- if she wasn’t out tonight with her girlfriend.”

“Athena-”

“Athena has override codes that you haven’t changed in a decade. If you try to keep me here, I  _ will _ use force. Just let me leave, Winston. Tell the UN that you couldn’t stop me without massive casualties. Do you really want  _ Talon _ on your doorstep because you’re harboring someone they’re after? They haven’t taken notice of you yet, but they will. You aren’t ready for Talon. Overwatch has  _ never _ been ready for that. If they show up, not a single person in this base will walk out of it. So, Winston, just  _ let me go _ so you have a goddamn chance.”

Winston was pale under his fur. “What did a man like you do to upset  _ Talon _ ?”

Jack smiled bitterly behind his mask. “Live.”

* * *

 

Jack rested his duffel against the wall with a sigh. “So.” He felt like an idiot, talking to empty air. A furtive scan showed no cameras pointed in his direction- he really should have told Winston about the blind spots, but they served their purpose for the moment. He rapped his knuckles against his chest, muttering a quiet “ _ Reaper.” _

Coldness unfurled in his chest. Well at least he had heard him. Jack leaned against the old concrete and waited. Several minutes passed before his visor pinged.

_ How was the talk with the monkey? _

“You were listening? That’s rude.”

_ So what? I wanted to see how he’d try to keep his pet vigilante. Nice speech by the way. _

“That wasn’t a speech you ass. Just tell me where to go.”

An address popped up a moment later.  _ It isn’t the best but there aren’t bugs and the staff won’t ask questions. _

Jack revved his bike’s engine. “Bugs? God forbid.”

_ Shut up. _

He had to suppress a laugh, tearing out of Gibraltar.

* * *

 

It took two hours to get to the address Gabriel had given him, crammed between two larger buildings in a run-down part of town. He lingered in the lobby, unsure what room to go to, until another message scrolled across his vision.

_ Room 302 _ .  _ I’m not there yet but it’s paid for. _

It only took a moment to get the key from the bored kid at the front desk and climb the stairs. He dumped his bag in the corner, opting for a shower instead of waiting for Gabriel. If the ass had a problem with it, Jack was going to lock himself in the bathroom and not let him use it. Since he was still missing when he emerged from the steam, he supposed it wouldn’t be an issue.

Jack stretched out his legs on the bed, watching the door lazily. The sudden chill in the air warned him of Gabriel’s approach and he waited, a flicker of movement drawing his attention to the window. Smoke poured through a crack in the seal, curling on the floor. Jack had to admit, there was a certain grace to Gabriel’s form like this. He doubted many people could take what had happened to him and force it to work. He settled back, watching a pillar rise from the smoke, slowly becoming the familiar form of Reaper.

“There’s only one bed, dumbass.”

Gabriel cracked his neck with a sigh. “I’ll take the couch.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do you guys even read these? I'll never know. Welcome to the spiciest part of the entire fic, unless my brain decides to go a completely different direction, which is entirely possible so I don't know why you'd believe me. Me? Know what I'm writing? Never.

“I’m on  _ house arrest?” _

Jack made no effort to conceal his incredulity. Gabriel, too, was annoyed, his edges fizzling at Jack’s continued argument. “You can’t be seen, you idiot! What do you think will happen if Talon finds out you’re hiding away here?” 

“You can’t  _ keep _ me here,” Jack snapped. “I’ll go mad.”

Gabriel glared at him. Well, the extra eyes were new; all the more to narrow in his direction, he guessed. “If I didn’t think I’d come back to a hole in the wall, I would tie you to the bed and be done with it.” Jack snorted.

“Always a kinky one, aren’t you?”

He  _ swore _ Gabriel flushed. “Will you stop calling me kinky? That's twice now and it’s getting old.”

“Well I  _ know _ you’re into bondage.” He wasn’t sure why he was doing this, dredging up their past lives when everything was still a raw nerve. “Considering how you  _ stuck _ to me- and the fact that you just threatened to tie me to the bed again- it hasn’t gone away.”

Gabriel refused to look even remotely in his direction; blackness filled his hood. Jack considered that a small victory. He sat back smugly. “I’m not staying here.”

A growl. “You are.”

“Am not.”

A very slight twist of Gabriel’s head revealed red pinpricks in the blackness of his face. “Well, I can’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“Wha-” Jack lurched backwards as smoke unspooled from the figure in front of him, lunging at him and wrapping around his waist and wrists. By the time Jack could see, he was trussed up like a pig; arms pinned to his sides by the smoke practically engulfing his torso. He twisted, shocked, as Reaper approached.

“Do try to get some sleep while I’m gone. I can assure you it’ll be better than two hours staring at the ceiling.”

Jack struggled, but the smoke was impossibly viscous. “Where the hell are  _ you _ going?”

“Would you rather I eat you? Because I could.” The substance around him turned freezing, a gnawing sensation pressing into his skin. “It would save me a lot of trouble, really.” Jack watched Gabriel approach, settling on his knees without any real sense of weight, and took his chin in hand. His voice was a lover’s promise in his ear. “I can feel your heart racing, you know. It’s okay, Jack, I won’t  _ actually  _ eat you. Just… a nibble here and there. You’d hardly feel it.”

Jack stared at him, fear and indigence warring for dominance. Indigence won by effort of will. “Has anyone ever told you you’re an edgy fuck? An  _ old _ edgy fuck?” He swore he saw Gabriel’s expression shift, even with his face hidden, before the wraith threw his head back and barked a laugh.

 

“Yes, Jack.” He drifted to the window, a stark black shadow against the cream walls. “Now… sleep tight.”

 

* * *

 

It took an hour before Jack was thrashing on the bed, spitting curses. “You  _ asshole, _ ” he hissed, “I  _ know _ you can hear me. Let me move my goddamn arms before they fall off.” He kneed himself in the ribs for the trouble, letting out a pained hiss and flopping sideways awkwardly. His shoulders ached.

Resigned on the bed, it took a moment for Jack to notice the creeping sensation under the smoke restraining him. Despite himself, his breathing quickened and he mentally cursed Gabriel and every weird bit of smoke that was on him as pressure slowly built over his chest. It seemed to collect just under his sternum, rubbing tiny circles into his skin, and Jack moved to cover the spot on instinct. To his surprise, his arms moved, the smoke nearly completely centered around his solar plexus. He scrabbled at it, trying to peel it off him before Gabriel could do whatever he was planning, and it went rigid.

Cold sank into his ribs as it  _ pushed _ , Jack giving a weak wheeze as he doubled over. He felt it deep in his chest, an unbearable ache forcing itself into him. He thought he could feel ice forming on him from the cold. Pure, unadulterated terror shot through him as it curled around something inside him, something Jack instinctively knew was vital and precious.

The world went dark, frost covering his thoughts.

Gabriel woke him by flipping him over, Jack flailing at his head in disoriented shock. He managed to get a solid hit against the mask before a winding shadow pinned his arms above his head. Fingers- not claws- probed his torso, pausing slightly just under his ribs.

“Gabriel what the  _ hell? _ ”

_ “Shut up.” _ If Jack didn’t know any better, he wouldn’t have recognized the wraith’s voice. It was a harsh, metallic snarl that sent shivers of fear through Jack. He couldn’t stop the defensive hiss that escaped him as cold fingers pressed painfully hard against the tender skin under his ribs; trying and failing to curl in on himself. An exasperated tut sounded above him. He thrashed in Gabriel’s hold until a heavy weight settled on his hips, and he snapped his head up to see him straddling him.

“What the hell?”

“Your torso is burned,” Gabriel informed him matter-of-factly, “But you aren’t dead or dying like I thought you were, so you can stop acting like I’m trying to murder you.”

“ _ Maybe _ ,” he hissed in response, “You can tell me what the  _ hell happened. _ ”

The black holes in the mask stared at him impassively. “You don’t want to know, trust me.”

“I don’t trust you. Tell me or I walk out of here.”  _ God _ Jack hoped Gabriel wouldn’t call his bluff.

A bitter laugh. “You’re a mutt with a bone. If I don’t tell you you’ll stick around trying to make me.”

_Dammit_ _. _

Gabriel let him up with a heavy grunt. “I’m sure you’ll figure the basics out yourself. You  _ really _ don’t want to know the details.” He watched as Jack pushed himself off the bed painfully, glaring at him the whole way to the bathroom. He pulled up his shirt and winced reflexively.

Black burns were slathered across his ribs, with a fist-sized spot over his solar plexus completely dark. The center was smoking slightly, wisps of darkness peeling off his skin. He touched one and flinched at the chill emanating from it. The skin was charred black but so,  _ so _ cold. It had to be Gabriel’s doing, or…

_ Oh _ .

When Jack reappeared, ribs and stomach neatly bandaged, Gabriel was sitting on the bed. He hadn’t changed out of his Reaper regalia, and he spared a moment to wonder where the blood went. “You nearly ate me.”

A grunt. “Nearly ate  _ more _ of you.”

“Will it go away?”

“Who knows?” Gabriel tipped backwards onto the bed. “You act like I’ve left my victims alive before.”

Jack glared daggers at the edge of the bone white mask. “Then why  _ did _ you leave me alive? Not that I’m complaining, but-”

“I didn’t mean to.”

The incredulous look Jack gave him was enough to spur Gabriel to a reluctant response. “I’ve never been split like that when…  _ feeding _ , before. It was a mistake to think that my nanites wouldn’t take you as a food source, too.” He dragged a hand down his mask, and it came away, laid on the dinky table next to the bed. A thin stream of black smoke pushed past his lips in a sigh. He looked absolutely exhausted, and Jack felt a flicker of sympathy. It couldn’t have been easy.

“Why did you stop?”

Gabriel looked over at him in slight surprise. “We went over this.”

“No, no.” Jack shook his head. “I mean, you were  _ eating _ me. What made you stop?”

Gabriel didn’t respond, pulling the blanket over his shoulder and refusing to look at him. Jack sighed and dropped the subject.

He woke up before sunrise, eyes opening to the velvet blackness of the room. A green pinprick blinked on and off in the corner of his vision and he watched it idly. Why  _ had _ Gabriel stopped? Not that Jack doubted his words that he needed Jack alive, but he had  _ seen _ Reaper feed before. It was  _ bestial _ , there wasn’t any higher thought in the beast when it was hungry.

...So what had snapped him out of that? Jack huffed and shifted on the couch, crossing his arms over his stomach. His burns itched. He rubbed them irritably, thoughts flashing back to just before he passed out.

What he had felt wasn’t normal. There was something  _ there _ , under his skin, that Reaper had seemed intent on. Something that wasn’t just his fresh body. He remembered the awful cold wrapping around it, burning into it, and shuddered violently.

The green light flashed, on and off, on and off. Jack focused on it to calm himself. The darkness was soothing, and his lack of fear surprised himself. Gabriel was nigh invisible, and yet Jack wasn’t afraid he was lurking somewhere.

On and off. On and off.

Gabriel had given a long spiel, before he knew who he was. Jack hadn’t paid much attention to the words, taking advantage of his monologue to stun him and escape, but…

He had mentioned souls. Jack’s soul in particular, and how he would crush it to dust. A hand drifted over his ribs. Was that it? Had he been about to eat his  _ soul _ ? Jack was in no means a religious man, but… he had  _ felt _ this, this fear beyond a mortal body.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He would ask Gabriel in the morning.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boy howdy.

The room was empty when he woke up. Jack muttered something rude under his breath and rolled over. Typical. He lay on the couch for another hour or so before finally sitting up and getting changed. After that, he stared at the wall. What was he supposed to  _ do? _ Watch TV until Gabriel got back?

Jack turned on the television. There were shitty shows on every channel but the news, and he settled on some documentary about penguins. At least he could pretend he cared. He slowly lapsed into the trance of watching TV.

His burns itched like hell.

He only heard Gabriel’s return upon his muffled curse.

“Hell-” A  _ woosh, _ and a clawed hand wrapped around his wrist, yanking it upwards. “Are you  _ insane?” _

Jack struggled, but his grip was iron. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“What sort of- Morrison you absolute  _ idiot _ . Hasn’t thirty years of kicking ass taught you not to  _ fucking scratch? _ ”

Jack was suddenly aware of the wetness dripping down his stomach, the stinging pain and the blood coating his fingertips. “I didn’t realize.”

Gabriel was a writhing mass of shadows in the dim room, and Jack felt a twinge of fear at having that ferocious anger directed at him. “How the fucking hell do you not notice you’re ripping your skin off?”

“I-”

“I don’t want to hear it.” He was shoved back down unceremoniously with an  _ oof.  _ “Take off those bandages.”

Jack slowly complied, pulling his shirt over his head and tugging at one loose end. It unwrapped easily enough until the last layer, where it seemed stuck. Joy. He gritted his teeth and  _ yanked. _

Gabriel’s startled noise was drowned out by the disgusting ripping sound as a long strip of blackened skin came away with the bandage. It left behind a stinging pink swathe in it’s wake and blood leaked from the edges. Jack hissed in pain. A pair of clawed hands- hell, those weren’t gauntlets, Reaper  _ actually had talons- _ offered the jar of antiseptic cream. He winced at the thought of applying the stuff.

A gentle tug on a second layer of bandage alerted him to those claws again. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Keeping you from ripping your goddamn skin off.” Gabriel peeled back the bandage until it met resistance, growling in irritation as it proved to be solidly stuck to the burns beneath. He paused, “I’m not even going to bother asking if you trust me, because you don’t, and I know you don’t, but I can fix this.”

Jack forced a shiver away at the way he said ‘fix’. “You mean without killing me?”

There was no response, but cold swamped his back. Jack looked down to see nothing but blackness around him, crawling over his skin. He took a deep breath. “Care to talk me through what you’re doing?”

“Getting rid of this shit,” was Gabriel’s cryptic reply. The raw skin burned suddenly and promptly went numb as he covered it. Jack sucked in a breath as a chill seeped through his skin. Tiny pin prick pains ran over his skin and he squirmed, gasping as Gabriel tightened around him. He couldn’t deny how being trapped like this set his heart racing. “I’d advise against moving.”

“Scared you’ll fuck something up,  _ Reaper? _ ” Jack’s voice broke in a laugh at his moniker.

“Only because you’d never let me hear the end of it.” Gabriel’s touch was clinical, careful, but it didn’t stop an illogical rush in Jack’s head. He shook it violently. What was he  _ doing? _ They weren’t like this anymore. He shouldn’t  _ do _ this to him anymore. Despite himself, he relaxed slightly into the pressure at his ribs; the odd sensation unusually similar to the sensation of being in a biotic field, but without the warmth. Gabriel jerked him out of his thoughts.

“This shouldn’t come off.” Jack glanced down to see the largest patch of charred skin remaining. He raised an eyebrow.

“It isn’t healed yet.” Gabriel pulled away from him even further, settling back on his haunches beside him. Jack carefully inspected his torso in confusion.

“There’s barely even a mark anymore, what were you  _ doing? _ ”

A long, awkward silence before Gabriel coughed. “I can do that. Like your biotic field but worse.”

Jack furrowed his brow. “But if you were fixing me up, how come you can’t-”

“Drop it, Morrison.” There was an edge to Gabriel’s tone that told him he was pushing the limits of the fragile peace between them. He backed away, halfway through the bathroom door when Jack spoke again.

“It’s my soul, isn’t it?”

Gabriel froze.

“That’s what stopped you, that’s what you were after. Why you don’t want to go near the spot now. Souls are real, aren’t they? And you eat them.”

There was a long, long silence, both men locking eyes. Jack silently implored him to respond, and he watched Gabriel’s face twist with indecision.

“Well…” He gave an odd, nervous laugh, scrubbing his face with the back of his hand. “There’s a reason I call myself The Reaper.”

Jack watched him cross to the bed. “You recognized my soul.”

“I did. It’s… memorable.”

Jack muffled a burst of ill-placed laughter. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”

Gabriel rolled his eyes. “It tastes like corn and old man problems; believe me, it’s no delicacy.”

They were both grinning now. “You seemed to like it.”

“Oh, oh, no. The real reason I stopped was because it’s entirely composed of your music tastes.”

“Now  _ that _ was an insult.”

“That music is an insult to my ears.”

“Maybe I’ll put some on.”

“Gonna dance with me, pretty boy?”

The moment fractured. Jack glanced away, his mouth dry. “Not much of a dancer anymore.”

* * *

Gabriel shut the door and clutched his head.  _ Why? _

_ He’s a means to an end. A safeguard. You  _ **_hate_ ** _ him, remember? _ He dug his fingers into the flimsy plastic counter, feeling it give under the pressure. Memories he had pushed away for years were welling up again, forced back into his head by Jack’s presence.  _ He doesn’t deserve the chance you’re giving him. _

“ _ Fuck, _ ” he hissed. 

A faint movement sounded behind him, Jack walking around the room. Gabriel squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself not to look at the soul only a room away.  _ Jack’s _ soul. Jack  _ fucking _ Morrison, with his pretty blue eyes and pretty blue soul. Gabriel hated how it drew him in like a moth to a flame, doomed to burn his paper wings against it. He crushed the plastic to dust in his palms.  _ Haven’t you learned from last time? _

Even when he was in the snapshot of bliss that taking another’s life, their heart and mind and  _ soul _ granted him, Jack  _ still _ drew him in. Gabriel would never forget the taste of him. Even now, the slavering hunger inside him clamored for the icy chill of it. He gave a bitter laugh. Of  _ course _ Jack would be his counterpart, bitter cold and hellish heat, the only thing that could truly slake his thirst, the burning that pervaded every waking moment. The one soul he could never bring himself to consume.

He looked up, eyes drifting to the spot of dim blue in the corner of his vision. Even through the wall- and wasn’t it a fucking  _ testament _ , that he could see it through some shitty motel wall with such clarity- that serene blue was the exact  _ opposite _ of serene, a maelstrom inside Jack’s chest. A rebellious part of Gabriel whispered to go, to comfort him; he stamped it down with all the force he could muster.

He made an abrupt decision. He wasn’t going to stay in this place with everything he tried to forget pacing next to the bed. Jack gave a startled yelp as he shoved open the door, crossing the room in long strides to the window, body falling apart and surging forwards before he was even halfway there. He was going out, and he was going to forget the taste of Jack’s soul if it took a hundred others to do it.


	5. Chapter 5

Reaper stumbled through the door at one in the morning, dropping directly onto a sleeping Jack with a startled squawk. “What are you doing?”

“What are  _ you _ doing,” came the answering snarl. Jack backpedaled off the bed with a thump as the wraith pushed him over. “It’s my turn for the bed.”

“No it is-”

“I  _ said,”  _ Gabriel’s tone dripped with venom, “It’s my turn for the bed, so  _ get out _ .”

“You don’t tell me what to do.” Jack got up anyways, stumbling across the room in the dark. He closed the bathroom door behind him and felt along the wall for the light switch, wincing as the bulbs sent a spear of pain through his sensitive eyes. He scrubbed his face, buying time before he had to go out and face a pissed-off, murderous Gabriel, and looked at himself in the mirror. Being cooped up hadn’t done his complexion any favors, and he could tell that his inactivity was wreaking havoc on his muscle tone.  **_Gabriel_ ** _ doesn’t have to worry about being able to walk before ten in the morning. _ He fumed over the benefits of being made of smoke for a few minutes.

When Jack emerged, he couldn’t spot Gabriel in the undersized room, and he frowned. After a moment, he gave up and flopped onto the bed again, staring at the off-color ceiling. A low rustle alerted him to the shadow creeping over the edge of the bed, and he choked back a snort. “You were hiding under the bed?”

He grumbled, slinking further onto the bed. “You try holding yourself together all the time and tell me you don’t want to hide in dark places.”

Jack made a noncommittal noise, staring  blankly at the ceiling and debating if it was worth trying to get back to sleep when Gabriel seemed to be in such a bad mood. “Is there a  _ reason _ you traipsed in here at fuck in the morning and turn into a puddle of goo?”

He felt more than heard Gabriel’s irritated rumble through the mattress. “None of your business.”

“You wake me up, you become my business.”

A long, exasperated sigh. Jack waited for it to end not-so-patiently, drumming his fingers against the bed. “Overeating can actually be a problem for me, apparently.”

Jack’s brow furrowed again. “But you eat… Okay…” He fought the urge to shift further away from him; if Gabriel noticed his suddenly racing pulse, he didn’t comment.

They lay in silence for several minutes before Jack decided ignoring Gabriel was dumb. He glanced over. Gabriel was huddled on the other end of the bed, an ink stain on the off-cream blanket. Jack watched smoke wisp off of him, and was overcome with the urge to drag his hand through it. He was reaching out before he stopped himself.

A single eye opened in the black, looking more like a red ink sketch than anything else. Jack stared right back. “Any reason you were going to pet me?”

“It wasn’t gonna be  _ petting _ .” Jack withdrew his hand with a huff. “You look like that stuff we would make out of cornstarch and water as kids. Gooy.”

“And you’re five, now. Cool.” Gabriel stared at him a moment more before abruptly gathering himself, flowing across the bed to rest inches away from him. Red pulsed inside his mass when he spoke again. “Might as well get it out of your system so I don’t wake up to you poking me or shit.”

Jack swallowed with a nod, reaching out delicately. He curled his fingers through Gabriel, pulling away a skein of darkness. It twisted and tumbled over his fingers to find it’s way back to the rest of him. “Gotta admire this.”

Gabriel twitched. “Admire  _ what? _ ”

“Well,” Jack brought his hand back down, repeating the motion. “It can’t be easy to control… this.”

A bitter laugh emanated from the puddle. “You have no idea what happened to me, do you.”

“You never said. All I know is that you have… nanites.”

Gabriel shifted under his fingers. “I’m nothing  _ but _ nanites, now. Whoever did this to me didn’t stick around to see the results of their sick experiment.”

Jack was quiet, waiting. After a moment Gabriel continued. “I died. And I woke up in the morgue with half my body missing. I had to pull myself together again, and I’ve been doing it ever since.”

“Not right now.”

“Even now.” A wispy tendril slid over his knuckles. “If I wasn’t, I have no idea how much I would disperse, and that doesn’t even  _ begin _ to cover how much effort it takes to keep my nanites in check.”

“Huh?”

“They’re always hungry. I think their data got corrupted when I… happened. I need living things to break down and consume, or they’ll stop working.” Gabriel’s voice became very quiet. “And if I don’t feed, I lose control.”

Jack stiffened. He sounded like he knew from experience, but that was a wound Jack didn’t want to prod right now. “And this is how you get when you eat too much?”

“Piss-drunk.”

He blinked. “What?”

“That’s the only thing I can compare it to, not that I’ve been drunk for a long while.” They had both been dismayed to discover that it took copious amounts of alcohol to even get buzzed after the SEP- Jack shook away the memory.

“Is this the only way you can stand me?” His joking tone fell flat. Of course, just because they had a fragile truce didn’t mean Gabr-  _ Reaper _ cared about him at all. Not anymore.

There was no response.

Jack started as a cool tendril wound around his waist, Gabriel slipping into his lap and higher. “Gabe-”

“Shhhhhhhhhhh,” His voice was a soothing croon. “Let me have this.”

Jack brutally shoved away the thoughts that  _ this _ meant  _ his soul _ and instead brought his hand up to brush along the darkness. “You-”

“I know.” He shifted slightly, pressing Jack backwards. “But I want this while I won’t push you away.”

“We’re gonna have to talk about it eventually.” Jack’s voice lacked the gravel it normally carried. Gabriel looked up at him with several wide eyes.

“I was hoping we could avoid it indefinitely, actually.” He was soft and quiet, curled tight about his ribs, and there was a lump in Jack’s throat that had nothing to do with fear.

_ You’re going to regret it in the morning. _ The words were on the tip of his tongue, but he couldn't bring himself to speak them. The tiny part of his brain that still  _ cared _ was screaming and raging, clinging to Gabriel’s presence with all it’s might.

He lay back, feeling Gabriel weigh heavily on him. After a moment, he realized the faint noise he could hear was coming from the darkness around him, a steady hum that sank into Jack’s bones and turned him to jello.

He should turn the lights off.

Jack slowly wrapped an arm around the mass above him, supporting it as he sat up. Gabriel gave an incomprehensible mutter as he rolled out of bed, darkness sweeping around his legs and trailing across the dingy carpet as he clung to Jack’s shoulders. He swallowed down the feeling of endearment and flicked the switch down, feeling Gabriel twitch around him as they were plunged into darkness. That odd hum grew louder, the chill around him molding to his body perfectly as Jack resumed his spot on the bed. 

He drifted in and out of sleep fitfully, half-awake because of Gabriel’s weight and the anticipation knotting his stomach over what he would do when he regained his senses.

The kick to the stomach still startled him, though. Gabriel bolted upright, the ever present humming growing to a screech as red spots of light rippled along him. They were all Jack could see of him, and he didn’t dare move for the light switch. He sat there, frozen, as the writhing shadows jerked away from him and Gabriel’s cry faded to hissing. Only then did he  _ slowly _ pull his legs up, flinching as Gabriel pinned them to the bed, hissing, “ _ What the hell were you doing?” _

He swallowed. “You were the one that was climbing me like a jungle gym.”

“I didn’t.”

Jack frowned, peering into the blackness. “Do you not remember  _ anything? _ You were that drunk?”

Scarlet eyes flared into being an inch from his nose, and it took all of Jack’s control not to yelp. “I don’t  _ get _ drunk, Morrison.”

“You… Wait.” Jack leaned as far back as the bed and Gabriel would allow, putting a meager few inches between them. “You  _ told _ me you were drunk. ‘Piss-drunk,’ to quote you. You… ate a lot of people apparently, and you wanted cuddles, and I’m not about to argue with someone who could eat me alive with minimal effort.”

Gabriel’s grip loosened slightly and he seemed to move back.

“Why the fuck would I want to cuddle with you, Morrison.”

He shrugged. “Did I mention you were drunk? You…” Gabriel’s plethora of eyes narrowed suspiciously. “.....We talked. A little.” Jack looked away, continuing a little quieter. “We should probably talk about it eventually, what this truce means an-”

“It means I don’t get murdered by Talon after they have their very own brainwashed super soldier.” Gabriel’s disembodied voice was short, clipped. The temperature dropped discernibly and Jack shivered. “It doesn’t mean anything else. I could still kill you.”

“But you aren’t.” Jack stared right back at him, eyes a little too wide and bright to be calm. “You could kill me, easy. I’ve  _ seen _ you eat. There wouldn’t be anything left for Talon.”

The eyes all contracted to pinpricks in unison, Jack’s pulse jumping at the feeling of  _ predator _ . Gabriel didn’t say a word. 

The weight lifted off his legs suddenly, and Jack yanked them up to his chest, shivering violently at the cold. He stared into the darkness- now completely absolute, Gabriel’s telltale eyes had vanished with his touch-, heart hammering. He was still here, Jack could  _ feel _ him watching.

“So maybe I want to hash out all our old problems again before I off you once and for all.” The voice came drifting out of the darkness, coiling around Jack’s brain. “Maybe I want to tell you just what happened when the bloated corpse of a  _ peacekeeping _ organization finally fell off it’s stilts. Is closure a little too much to ask, Jack?” A rush of cold air filled the room and Jack held his breath instinctively. Claws materialized at his jaw. “You think I don’t want to kill you? I  _ despise _ you. But I want to see you crumble before you die. I want you to realize just what you gave up on when you gave up on Gabriel Reyes."

A pair of eyes opened in front of him, glowing such a bright scarlet that Jack could make out the glint of his bared teeth. “And I want you to suffer until you’re begging to die.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What a cliffhanger ;3c


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next two chapters are going to be posted at the same time, as chapter eight is an epilogue because ~~I'm a sucker for sappy endings~~ of a couple of loose ends.

“I’m going to go mad,” Jack declared to no one in particular, kicking the side of the bed with his heels. “I’m going to die in here and you wouldn’t even care.”

“Not if you keep complaining.” Gabriel’s voice drifted from the bathroom. Jack shot the closed door a bitter glare.

“It. Has. Been. Months. _Months,_ Gabriel. I haven’t seen anything but these four walls and your pissy face in three goddamn months. Let me _out_ , for Christ's sake, or I’ll strangle you in your sleep.”

The bathroom door cracked open, and the aforementioned pissy face appeared in the gap. “Has it not occurred to you that if you leave this building Talon will find you? I’m not wasting the last three months of my life when you get pulled off the street.”

“Heartless. I’ll die of muscle atrophy.”

Gabriel muttered something under his breath. “What was that?”

“I _said_ ,” he was fizzling now, “Forget your muscles, it’s your _brain_ that's rotting away.” The door shut decisively and Jack grumbled, lying back on the bed. He winced as his back protested. Stir-craziness aside, he really _was_ getting out of shape. He didn’t want to think about his aim.

“And what am I supposed to do if Talon breaks down the door? I couldn’t kick their asses in the state I’m in, laying around all day.”

“You don’t lay around all day, you do crunches and stretches and those damn pushups. Your form is terrible, by the way.” Gabriel finally emerged from the bathroom- Jack had no idea how he could spend so long in there, he didn’t even have a _toothbrush_ \- and a wad of fabric hit him in the face. He unfurled it, glanced from Reaper’s coat to Gabriel. “Excuse me?”

“You think I’d let you go out in that disaster of a jacket? If you’re coming with me, you’re being as damn inconspicuous as you can be. No rifle either, you have a sidearm that _isn’t_ one of a kind and recognizable from half a mile away.”

Jack stared at him. “You’re actually agreeing with me? You’re letting your prisoner outside? On a _mission? For Talon?_ ”

“Figured you wouldn’t shut up unless I did, and you’d just follow me and blow both of us.” Ripples of smoke coalesced into a second coat firmly around his shoulders, and Jack glanced at the bunched fabric in his hands.

“Please tell me this isn’t made of you.”

“Nah.”

He glared suspiciously and Gabriel continued. “Might as well be, with how many times I’ve broken it down, but you aren’t wearing anything that originally came from me.”

Jack reluctantly slipped it on. It fit, and was significantly shorter than Reaper’s own coat. “Then why is it different?”

“Because I can alter the material, and there wasn’t enough to make it fit you _and_ be the same length. Now go get ready, I can’t be waiting around for an hour for you to do your makeup.”

“Is that what you were doing? I think you need a bit more eyeliner for all those eyes.” Jack yanked his boots over his feet and paused, “What do I do about my visor?”

“Don’t wear it.”

He rolled his eyes. “I _know_ , but I don’t have anything else to cover my face, and I’m _not_ wearing your ridiculous bird mask.”

“Bird mask?” Gabriel seemed honestly, genuinely perplexed and Jack gaped at him.

“Don’t tell me you have no idea.”

“No idea about what?”

“Your mask looks like a barn owl, Gabriel. Have you ever _seen_ a barn owl? It’s painfully obvious, and I honestly can’t belie-”

“I’m shitting you. Owls are traditionally harbingers of death, you know.” He took Jack’s punch to the arm with a surprising amount of grace, chuckling. “And no, you aren’t going to wear a mask. No one would mistake you for John Morrison, I promise. Not with _that_ face.”

He glared.

“Now are you ready or not?”

 

* * *

 

“It’s fucking dark.”

“Shut _up_ , Jack.”

“Not all of us can have freaky night vision like you.”

“I will literally eat you. Do you want me to eat you? No? Then shut up.”

They were lingering outside a grimy door. Jack wiped a gloved fingertip along the edge and grimaced. “I don’t want to know what’s on here.”

A gauntlet clamped over his mouth and dragged him back into the deepest shadows. Jack struggled wildly for a moment until he heard footsteps, reluctantly stilling with his heart pounding. His blood was up, and his finger curled over the trigger guard expectantly. A chill ran over his arm as Reaper pulled it down to his side, and something drifted over his vision momentarily.

Two teenagers pushed open the door and glanced around. Evidently determining the coast was clear, they set off down the dingy street. Jack watched them go, wound like a coiled spring. Only after their footsteps faded did Gabriel speak, releasing Jack and drifting to the door. “Delivery kids.”

Jack nodded slowly. “Didn’t expect you to leave them alive.”

Even from here, he could sense the glare through Reaper’s mask. “They weren’t armed.”

“Wouldn’t have mattered if they were, you're not exactly easy to shoot. I should know.”

Every line in Reaper’s body is tense as he plants his palm over the keyhole. “And you would have killed them?” It was a loaded question and they both knew it.

“Yeah. Can’t have them running off and telling stories.”

“You’d shoot an unarmed kid someone is making deliver takeout just because they’re there.” The black pits bore into him and Jack swallows, steels himself. “You’d kill a _child_ because they got in the way of killing everyone else.” Reaper’s voice is bitter and laced with venom. “What happened to the great Strike Commander Morrison? The man who wanted to _help_ people?”

His blood boils. “You don’t get to lecture me on morality when you’re going to go in there and rip someone's soul out of their chest and eat it. At least I’m _human_.”

Reaper explodes in a buzzing, hissing mess, surging to pin Jack against the filthy wall. “And who’s fault is it that I’m _not?_ No one bothered to dig Gabriel out of the rubble. No one cared about a disgraced black ops commander. If you had just _listened to me_ when I told you there was a mole, if you had _cared_ at ALL-” He was cut off by a window slamming open and a shout.

“Damn drunks, get out of the street!”

 **_“SHUT UP.”_ ** His voice was an inhuman screech and the man cursed, vanishing into the building. The entire place lit up with sound and Jack could feel the icy chill dripping off his limbs as Reaper turned his attention back to him. “You ruined this entire damn thing now and you better _fucking_ **_fix it_ ** _._ ”

Jack followed him into the building- in some rational part of his brain he noticed that the keyhole had _vanished_ with the deadbolt, eaten away- and gripped his pistol tightly. This was the side of Gabriel that led to their bitter arguments. Funny how this time it wasn’t him doing the lecturing.

Reaper had already vanished. Someone came around the corner and his arm came up smoothly, aim surprisingly good for his lack of training. He kept going, trying to find his way to the basement, men dropping like flies to his gun. He stopped short as he realized he had absolutely no idea _why_ Reaper had come here, and whipped around as a heavy hand came down on his shoulder.

His fist went through smoke and he implausibly relaxed. “The hell did you go?”

“Places.” The door fell to one of those clunky boots and Jack suppressed another eye roll at the reminder that Gabriel’s love of costume didn’t die with the rest of him.

“Reaper,” he ventured as the wraith strode down the stairs, his boots shaking the wood. “What are you looking for?”

“Nanotech. These idiots got ahold of some, it’s nothing major but they could be a pain in the ass if they manage a biotic field half as functional as yours.”

He raised an eyebrow as Reaper rounded the corner, shooting down a scrambling man. “You think they’re capable of it?”

“You never know wi- _Jack!_ ”

A white-hot brand of pain slammed into his side. _Bullet._ He grabbed the agony, forced it into a tiny ball and shoved it away, turning to shoot whoever had shot him in the most painful area he could hit. As he fired, a wall of cold rushed past him, and he watched Reaper drag the screeching goon to the floor. A terrible, bestial hiss filled the room and the screams kicked up a couple decibels and Jack winced. He reached for his canisters- _shit._ He hadn’t brought them. Emergency medical it was.

Jack tuned out the screams as he reached around, ignoring the stabbing pain to probe at the wound. No exit wound, _great_. He tested the blood flow- not enough to be a major artery, hopefully not an organ. He didn’t have anything to prise the metal out of him, though.

A choked gurgle alerted him to the pile of limbs on the floor and he glanced away. “Don’t suppose you have anything to remove a bullet on you.”

A pause. Reaper slowly formed from the shifting mass of smoke. Red coals burned in the pits of his mask. Jack stared into them, willed away the voice in the back of his head screaming that he had made a terrible, terrible mistake. His fingers curled against the cement.

“Nothing you would like.”

He relaxed infinitesimally. “I’d take anything over having metal in my kidneys.”

Reaper’s mask tilted slightly. He drifted over, grasping the arm of Jack’s uninjured side and dragging him until he could situate himself against a wall. He was being surprisingly gentle. Jack stared into the dead holes in ivory. “The entry wound is behind me.”

“I know.” His mask dissipated with the sigh, and Jack looked into Gabriel’s face, framed by Reaper’s hood. He looked right back, and Jack couldn’t discern his expression. “It won’t be a problem.”

The question died on his lips as a clawed gauntlet slipped between his side and the wall at his back. Jack clenched his jaw as the wound stung, Gabriel pressing his hand against it. The image of the destroyed lock rose unbidden in his mind and he locked eyes with Gabriel, heart pounding like a frightened rabbit.

Ice pierced his skin as Gabriel’s- _Reaper’s_ hand pushed into his side. He hissed, face twisting in discomfort as claws rooted around in his ragged flesh. The man in front of him was alarmingly calm, eyes closed. Looking closely in a meager attempt to distract himself, Jack saw… exhaustion? Resignation? None of the venomous anger he had come to expect.

It was over as quickly as it had begun. A bloody gauntlet rose into his vision, silver lines blurry against the crisp focus of Gabriel’s face. He was looking at him now, exhaustion and the tiniest hint of softness crossing his face. The latter vanished before Jack could process it and he blinked.

The hand came back to rest at his side, a different sort of coolness seeping into the burning flesh. Gabriel was saying something, but Jack couldn’t hear him. The blackness creeping into the corners of his vision wasn’t Reaper, he realized, but he was passing out, spawned by blood loss, adrenaline, and whatever the hell Gabriel was doing to him.

Oh, well. Jack slipped off the edge, the last thing lingering in his vision two wide crimson eyes.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I LIVE  
> To avoid confusion, I'm uploading the final chapter tomorrow, which is a short epilogue. Sorry about this one being so short, guys, but there really wasn't anywhere I felt the story needed to go now. It's all sickeningly sweet fluff from here!

Awareness came with pain. Jack groaned, rolling over to shield his eyes from the sunlight. The world tilted horribly and his head slammed into the floor with a  _ thunk _ .

“ _ Ugh.” _

Gray socks moved into his field of vision. “That’s not the bed.”

“Fuck you.” It was too exhausted to carry any weight and he heard Gabriel snort. A hand gripped his arm, the other one coming to rest on his hip. 

“Three-”

“I can get up myself!”

_ “One.”  _ The world spun again as he was heaved up and back over the end of the bed, back at an extremely uncomfortable angle. It didn’t stop spinning, either, and he groaned again. A bottle of water moved into his field of vision and he grabbed it, gulping it down. The end of the bed dipped.

“The bullet didn’t hit anything major, but there’s a chance of infection from me dragging your sorry ass back here after you passed out. I can only do so much.”

Jack ran a hand down his side, marveling at how little pain he felt. His side was wrapped in bandages, but even through the gauze he could feel a chill. “You…”

“I told you about my nanites.” Gabriel seemed testy.

“Why do you  _ care? _ ” Jack made eye contact for the first time. Gabriel looked stunned.

“I’ve told you-”

“No.” His head was spinning again and he grimaced. “I don’t want to hear about how Talon could dig up my dead body. You just said the wound wasn’t major. I would have lasted back here without your mumbo jumbo shit, but you did it anyway. You didn’t  _ have _ to.”

Gabriel was still staring at him. Jack didn’t want to read his expression and glanced away. 

“So what if I do care?” It was barely spoken, but his head snapped around. Gabriel seemed incredibly conflicted. He opened his mouth and closed it again, taking a deep breath. “Jack.”

“Being around you has dredged up a lot of things I’d rather forget. I can’t find it in me to despise you, anymore. I saw you get shot and… panicked isn’t the right word. I was angry that they would try to hurt you. I’m  _ tired _ , Jack. Tired of being angry at the one man who had my back every time but one.”

His sincerity cut Jack to the bone. Self-loathing crashed over him before he could steel himself against it. “Why should I deserve it?”

Gabriel blinked. “Why do… Jack, I don’t have an answer for that besides that you  _ don’t _ deserve what happened in the first place. An ass-kicking, maybe, but not…  _ that. _ ”

“It wasn’t every time but one, Gabe. You came to me time and time again and I turned you away. My  _ husband _ . All because some shriveled assholes in the UN had my ear.” Jack dug his nails into his forearm. “I don’t deserve an ounce of pity for that.”

Gabriel was watching him with wide eyes glossy with tears. He silently reached out and pulled Jack close, loose enough that he could pull away if he wanted. This close to him… the yawning ache in his chest ripped wider. Jack knotted his fists into Gabriel’s coat and sobbed. 

A hand came up to cradle the back of his head. “Jack…”

He felt a face press into his hair. “Whether or not you deserve it doesn’t matter-”

“That just means I do.”

“ _ No, _ Jack. It means that you could do the worst thing in the  _ world _ to me, and I could still forgive you if I choose to do so. I can forgive you for the wrongs you’ve done against me, and I  _ do. _ It’s on me to decide if I should forgive you, not you, and I won’t let you go on thinking you’re undeserving of something I’m giving you.” Gabriel rubbed his back. “Look at me.”

Jack reluctantly raised his head. Gabriel was looking at him imploringly. “I forgive you for turning me away when I needed you. It’s behind us. It’s in the past, and there’s nothing we can do to change that.”

He hiccupped, ducking down again to hide the fresh welling of tears. “I thought you hated everyone on this planet with a passion.”

“Well.” A hand clasped his jaw, tilting his head back. “I forgive  _ you _ .” Jack stared into fiery crimson eyes, seeing a maelstrom of raging fury barely contained. “ _ Only _ you. I’m going to burn the world that wronged me, that wronged  _ us _ to the ground.”

Jack could do little more than blink in the face of Reaper’s fury. “Oh.”

“Will you help me?” It was an unexpected question. Jack frowned. He remembered all the people, the toads in charge, that held him and Overwatch on a leash and kept them from  _ helping _ . He was willing to bet none of them had suffered when it fell; no, all that came crashing down on him and Gabriel and everyone they loved. He laughed through his tears.

“Ever think about finding a nice tropical island somewhere instead? Lord knows we’ve earned our retirement.”

Gabriel’s lips curled into a razor grin. “You know we’re too stir-crazy for that. Fighting till the grave takes us both.”

“Yeah.” Jack pressed his forehead to Gabriel’s shoulder, giving himself one last moment of closeness before pulling away. The claws at his back fell away as he did, the man’s expression shifting into something like worry at his movement. “Hell to it. Why not? I’m stuck with you anyways.”


	8. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry, and I know I will probably have yelling angry people at this, but this has been done since I finished the previous chapter and then I just. Forgot to post it for a month. I've kind of... drifted away from the OVW fandom, especially after they retconned three-quarters of everyone's characterization and backstory *cough*Moira's introduction*cough* and I've just lost my shipping spark for these two. Between that and the Hell That Is University, I haven't written anything new for this ship in a long while. At least I went out with my (second) longest fic yet, topping a whopping 12,500 words! It's been a pleasure to write for such an interested audience, and if I ever have an idea for this ship, I'll be sure to post it here. Thank you all for being so supportive and receptive to my little stories, I love you guys.

A deep, peaceful sigh filled the room. Jack rolled over, stretching languidly. He heard a familiar tread in the hall and smiled, relaxing bonelessly into the soft mattress. It was heaven on his aching bones. He waited for Gabriel to push the door open, was he lingering?

A steady  _ whoosh _ and the panel slid aside. Gabriel Reyes stepped into the room, giving Jack a smile. He crossed to the bed, bending down as Jack sat up and hugged him.

“I can’t believe you talked me into this.”

Jack nuzzled into his shoulder with a laugh. “Well,  _ I’ll _ enjoy the sun and sand, at least.” He lurched backwards, pulling Gabriel over him onto the bed. Gabriel gave a surprised squeak as he tumbled, form dissolving and flowing in streams of misty air to settle beside Jack. He still indented the mattress, somehow.

Jack watched as the shadow slowly formed the body Gabriel was most comfortable with; a little too twisted to be human, with blackened claws and scarlet ink eyes, and smoke drifting with every breath from dead lungs. He was what children were taught to fear, the bogeyman that stole away tainted and innocent souls alike.

He didn’t think he could love him more.

Jack scooted forwards, reaching out to Gabriel. A hand pressed against his back- still too far to be  _ attached _ to him, but who cared? He snuggled into the wraith’s chest with a hum. Blunt claws carded through his hair. “I thought you were going to enjoy the sun and sand.”

“I can enjoy both.”

He felt Gabriel’s head cock above him. “Both of what?”

“The beach and you.” Jack looked up at him. “And I’ve been waiting for a vacation like this for too long.”

They were so close now, everything in Jack’s chest ached to close the difference between them, and bit by bit, he did.

“I still think your eyes are pretty,” he murmured. Gabriel’s eyes were wide, something Jack dared to think was hope dancing in their depths like a long forgotten flame. “The red suits you, you know. Especially when it's darker, like rust.”

A soft laugh. “Not all of us can have the bluest damn eyes anyone has ever seen, sunshine.”

_ Sunshine. _

The hope, the feeling in Jack’s chest that he didn’t dare call  _ love _ was welling up, cracking all over and he felt he would burst. He closed his eyes, finding his way to Gabriel’s mouth by long-ago memory.

It was nothing like their first kiss. That was sculpted by the pain and fear and electric adrenaline of the battlefield, blood on broken concrete. This was… softer. More forgiving. They were learning each other all over again, Gabriel’s jagged teeth brushing his scars as Jack breathed around the smoke in his throat. He molded every inch of himself to Gabriel, reveling in the feeling of having someone to  _ hold _ , to touch and kiss again.

It seemed an age before they separated. Gabriel was barely breathing hard, giving Jack that crooked grin that had sent fire through his veins when they were young. Now, it just spurred another burst of affection in his chest. He pressed kisses to his cheeks, his forehead, before meeting his mouth once more. He drank him in, tasting ash on his tongue until Gabriel gently pushed him back. He buried his face in the crook of Jack’s neck and breathed. Jack held him close, indulging in the feeling.

He felt warmth against his skin and looked down, close-shorn curls brushing his chin. “Are you crying?”

“No.” He sounded petulant and Jack smiled. He couldn’t  _ stop _ smiling, brimming with love he hadn’t dared to feel for a long, long time.

“It’s okay, Gabi.” Gabriel’s breath hitched at the nickname. Jack nuzzled his hair affectionately. “We have a whole week to be sappy and ridiculous.”

A grumble, but he didn’t sound particularly irritated. “I’m gonna bury you up to your neck in the sand tomorrow. Maybe that’ll keep you from getting sunburned.”

“Never. You’ll hear me complain about the sun until the day I die.”

“Maybe I’ll let the tide come in then.”

Their gentle bickering floated out into the sunny ocean view.


End file.
